Haunting Steel Hallways
by PhoenixSongs
Summary: A routine operation - get in, get out, until Logan finds out what 'The Company' has really been planning. ROGAN 3
1. Ignoring Retina Scanners

'Wolverine' Scotts voice intruded into the silence, 'For the hundredth time, i am _trusting_ you to go your own way - and for the seven billionth time i am _trusting _you to check in everything even slightly suspicious.' Storm smirked slightly at the patronising address and Wolverine vaguely wondered about retracting his Adamantium claws and running Scott through. Instead he retracted the middle on and pointed in Scotts direction. Scott huffed and began speaking to Jean.

'Remember, this is a sneak attack - we go in, scope the place out, _silently,' _Scott turned once again to Wolverine, who held up his middle claw again, 'if you come across anyone, knock out only, no deaths on this mission, please, not if you can help it, we find the central Data Processor download it to the Devices from the Professor, It will automatically download everything, as well as getting trough fire walls and passwords, so you needed't worry about that, and then we get out, communication devices active at all times. Logan, you check the basements, Jean, the first floor, i'll do second and Storm you do the top,' The four X-Men descended the ramp from the jet and each went a separate way, according to the blueprints they had studied.

Wolverine examined the back of the building with distain, his own entrance to the building had been far to easy to be enjoyable; using the cloak of fog that Storm had forced to descend around the compound as a cover he had cut down four guards with quick blows to the heads - they weren't dead - and sliced through the electric fence, ignoring the burning, tickling sensation as the shocks trailed down his entire metal skeleton, He knocked out another nine guards and dragged them away from sight, taking each of their ID badges and using those to get through the large chain linked entrances at the back - meant for delivery trucks and enclosed a car park that held several army jeeps.

Wolverine was heavy, really heavy; the metal that clung to his skeleton made him gods knows how much heavier, but he had long ago learned how to take each footstep without a sound. Using his extra senses it was simple to sniff out every guard approaching and knock them down as he emerged from the dense fog that had been sitting there for several hours to reduce suspicion. It was all incredibly easy for a mutant like Wolverine to enter the compound through a thick metal door; he could simply have sliced it to shreds with his claws, but instead he used the stolen ID badges and it swung open upon his request. Welcoming him into a world that seemed pure steel.

Even his breath seemed to rattle as he stood still in the reflective, shining surfaces. He took a hesitant step forwards, cursing under his breath as, no matter how lightly he placed his foot the entire hallway seemed to rumble. He smelt it before he saw it, despite how long the corridor was, a man, smelling of sweat and cheap shampoo rounded the corner, a large gun clasped in his arms. seeing the wolverine he began to shoot immediately, the bullets flying through the air to Wolverine's form, each one pounded into him and he fell back, the soldier walked a little nearer to him, checking if the Wolverine was dead, the gun stayed aimed at the still Wolverines head.

The guard' almost certain the Wolverine was deceased stood mere metres away, Wolverine struck out with his adamantium leg, twisting it on the ground as it flew into the soldier's own legs; he buckled and began shooting again but only managed to hit him once before Wolverine had twisted the gun from his hands and slammed him against the wall, grasping his neck and resisting the temptation to break it. Animal instincts, he told himself….

How do it get into the basements?' he asked, very close to the spotty face of the guard,

'Not… tell… Enemy,' He gasped, Logan squeezed tighter, until the solder's eyes bulged, he held his hands up, and tried to nod his head, Wolverine, let him go a little, relaxing the hand around his neck and the guard's purple hue calmed,

'Take me there and if you trap me or lie i will kill you in a second.' Wolverine threatened, knowing full well he did not care about carrying out such a threat. He kept a hand on the guards collar as he stumbled around corridor after corridor, running into a further three guards and knocking each one out like pins in a bowling game.

Eventually the guard led him to a staircase, one that descended far, where little light seemed to penetrate although Wolverine could see a thick metal door at the bottom. He shoved the guard down each step, who whimpered slightly. The door was heavy, Wolverine guessed a about thirty centimetres thick by what he could see and feel at the door. A retina scanner stood at the eye height as well as three broken camera's that logan had used a system jammer to put out already. Knowing full well that the mere guard would not be able to enter such a high security door he delivered a heavy blow to his skull and he fell with thunk. The Wolverine extended his impressive claws and made a long slice in the door; seeing he was correct about the thickness he had a distant impression he was in the right place. But still he cut through the door like butter, and emerged to yet another metallic hallway. There were no doors on the sides of this hallway just an insanely long, curving hallway.

He came to another door, complete with the same security as the last, the retina scanner bleeped fussily and he sliced through this one as well.

But then he emerged into a long corridor with half a dozen doors leading of it's sides and The Wolverine was lost in a mix of confusion, but mostly terror, as it, pure and awful, raced through his veins.

**oooooooooh,,, whats he found? ^^ keep reading - i'll update soon **

**xx**


	2. Decimated Doorways

Whereas the rest of the compound had consisted of sterile lights and military neatness, each door sealed and without entry, this place was oh so very different; While it retained an attempt at the same alienness and eerie brightness this place had been terrorised. Wolverine counted at least three dozen guards - all smothered in bullet proof jackets and cradling guns and knives laying unmoving on the ground. Papers were strewn about like the aftermath of a hurricane, half the doors were torn of their hinges and crumpled on the floor. Computers were torn apart like toys, wires ripped from their innards like intestines, but, worst of all, red, so much red, was splashed across the walls; it lay in puddles on the ground and dripped from the ceiling.

Wolverine was abruptly certain nothing human had made such chaos.

He tapped the communicator at his wrist, about to call the other's down here but he heard nothing but static; he tried again and again but something - or maybe, _someone, _was blocking the signal to his partner's communicators. He growled and stepped over a body to the first door on his left, stepping through the remnants of the door he gaped inside the darkened room. It was like the inside of a security factory. Nineteen screens glowed with fuzzed pictures, although most of them were cracked or bleeding more wires, cracks and sparks were still flying from a decimated keyboard that ran around the desk, and four guards gaped endlessly from their spinning chairs, bullet holes in the exact centre of their foreheads. Wolverine stepped back out of the room, knowing anything of value was destroyed, he pushed a little on the next door which swung forward and then of it's hinges, this one seemed the same as the other; head phones and computer screens and microphones, keyboards and printout that were shredded to confetti, and bodies hanging of their chairs, headphones still over their ears. Wolverine retreated from this room to; the scent of bloom was clogging his sensitive nose.

Every room was the same; bodies strewn around like playthings, blood splattering every surface, everything torn to pieces, Wolverine could see every piece of damage was fresh - he wondered if whatever had done this was loose in the building, did the upper floors even know what had happened down here?

Wolverine had looked in every room but one - and he had saved this room until last because it was clearly the most important; the door was wide enough for several men to pass through at the same time and about three times Wolverine's height, It had every piece of security possible; three retina scanners, five sets of finger print scanners, nine keypads for passwords, an entire sixteen sets of key locks, and what seemed to be a silver recorder for voice activation of opening the room. And yet among that, as well as the door that was over a metre thick, Wolverine was able to step into the room with ease through the twisted, battered door. he stooped a little - and guessed that whoever had doe this was shorter and smaller than he by quite a lot.

And Wolverine was met by a room that looked as though it had been painted with a hose, ruby was scattered across every inch of everything. Wolverine nearly gagged with the smell, having to breathe through his mouth just to keep upright. There was no light here; just what came through the scattered doorway; it illuminated what appeared to be a prison cell, but one that Wolverine had never seen before; a slab of metal was raised slightly; chains extending from each corner, Wolverine assumed the prisoner was placed here always, chained to keep him from moving, a strange body made of metal was cast aside, bent and twisted but still recognisable, it was about twenty centimetres thick but had been torn apart like paper. Wolverine tried to understand - only coming up with the option that perhaps the prisoner had been encased in this as well; to stop them moving even slightly… Wolverine tried to imagine the pain of living, trapped in this metal body, unable to move, hell, breathing would probably be difficult in this. To anyone such an escape would be impossible - even to a mutant, there were few that could use their powers without moving any part of their body, and abilities using just the mind could be dampened with the use of certain metals,Wolverine had found a strange helmet that seemed to have been used for this purpose.

The rest of the equipment could have belonged in a hospital; a heart monitor with shattered screen stood across the room, trays of syringes were thrown about in every corner - a great many still full of various liquids, some of which seemed to consist of blood - Wolverine wondered if the bloods was the prisoner's. He tried his communicator fruitlessly again, hearing yet more static. Wolverine turned out of the room, walking back down the hallway to the door, hoping to at least get some signal away from here; maybe the room had protection around it to stop any thing penetrating it. Whatever was here was clearly a great prize - or something the compound feared so much to keep it locked up in such a way. He was alert as always and his senses screamed at him as he came into the hallway; the smell of blood was as overwhelming as always; but now it was beginning to recede he could smell something else too; it was a smell that did not belong here, but it was all over; especially in cell, Wolverine wondered if this scent belonged to the illusive whatever that was imprisoned here, he sniffed hard and smelt the strange mix of woodsy pine and flowery peach, it was eerie and unknown but strangely beautiful, Wolverine contemplated until his head was over run by his eyes rather than his nose.

The thick door he had sliced open was gone; the hinges swinging from the newly realised pressure. That meant the prisoner had almost certainly known he was there… and had not killed him, Wolverine wondered… but then he realised he had no time to wonder, even if this person was a prisoner The Company clearly had a reason for keeping it, and maybe this thing had the answers they needed about Project Rouge, it was his responsibility to find the prisoner - it was clearly very well versed in fighting, and with absolutely no problem with killing, the prisoner could be a danger to the other X-Men, although Wolverine did wonder why the prisoner had not killed him, as well as how she had done so much damage to the door without a sound. He ran nimbly up the stairs; certain that the prisoner had done this and that he could not be far away; he scented the air; following his nose down a different hallway to the one he had come from. he walked silently, following the sweet smell that perfumed the hallways, and when he heard voices he stopped, listening with all his might, standing at the corner of a metallic hallway, not fa away from where the prisoner spoke with a shaky, breathless voice, filled with fear, but bitingly dripping with and hate and revenge.

**Well we can all guess who the prisoner is - if you can't then… well don't become a detective,, i'll update soon,,**

**xx**


	3. The Arm that Aims the Gun

'How do we get out of here?' Her voice was military; each word a barked command like an old general or lieutenant in the middle of a crisis. But when she said 'We' her voice seemed to change - and it was like someone else was speaking; it cracked and her voice became softer, until that softness was forced back by the end to the order. The guard whimpered un response and Wolverine dared to peek around the corner, pulling back in less than a second.

What appeared to be some form of doctor in a long coat with greasy hair was pressed face against the wall, his face pressed against the cool metal, a gun was placed surgically against his neck, held by a pale, skinny arm. The arm belonged to a girl. And she was just a girl; around sixteen at most, with a spool of dark hair clouding her face, Wolverine saw two strange white stripes encircling her pale face, contrasting wildly to her dark hair, her clothes were old and thread bare; a tank top that was dirty grey, and sweat pants that hung of her long legs, she was barefoot, but what The Mighty Wolverine was most shocked at; was the fact that this young girl with such matchsticks arms, was smothered in scarlet blood.

'Tell us the way out.' Her voice was steely now, Wolverine wondered vaguely what she meant by 'Us', she was the only one, besides the doctor, in the hallway, but he did not have time to wonder. He tapped his communicator pointlessly again,

'There is a doorway a little way down,' The doctor said, his voice a plea, he began to chirp directions in a shaky voice, lefts and rights, doorway's and codes, the girl was silent through it, taking in every detail, keeping the gun in exact place. When he was done, his voice a gasp, he began to beg for mercy again.

She giggled.

'Did you show us mercy, Doctor? When we were locked in a cell and _experimented _on, when we screamed for help, when you forced those powers on us, did you give us mercy?' She addressed him formally, hate surging through her tone but still managing to stay so in control,

'No. You didn't.' There was a thunderous gunshot and a thud, Wolverine emerged from his hiding place and looked at the scene before him.

The body of the doctor lay on the ground, blood smattered the hallways in droplets, and droplets had showered the girl as well, her clothes looked as though the blood had rained from the clouds and her arms looked like that of an ancient warrior, covered in the blood of a thousand men. But what Wolverine did not understand was what had happened to her; not to the Doctor, she fell to her knees with a gasp, clasping her blood splattered face, half tearing away her flesh with her own finger nails, tears fell from her eyes, when she was still she raised her head, still holding it as though she were recovering from a hang over, she looked at the body, shock abundant in her eyes, she crawled away from him desperately, trying to free herself from any drop of blood of the murder, clawing at her arms, as though she were trying to scrape away the blood there, when she saw the gun in her hand she held it up to her watery eyes, before throwing it across the floor like it was diseased, she let out a cry and crawled to her feet, dragging a hand across her eyes and turned and she ran.

**This one's short but i just wanted to get the point across about the whole… ya know… Rouge killed someone,, if you still seriously haven't guessed this is Rouge the i don't think you've been watching X-Men at all. **

**please review - seriously,, it makes me wanna right more and then i'll update more often.**

**xx**


	4. Smoke Bombs and Hopscotch

Wolverine took of at a run after her, his feet pounding at the floor, the metal echoing around his ears, he heard a cry from far far away and abruptly needed to help, he rounded a corner and saw, with his heightened vision, at the end of the door another guard with gingery shock of hair aiming a gun at her, she was collapsed on the floor, kicking her legs to get a way from him but skidding on the slippery floor, her cries echoed towards him, the guard seemed to be debating what to do, Wolverine ran, but he had hardly taken a step when her crying pleas ceased, replaced by a cold, calculating voice, not like the voice he had heard her with when she had killed the other guard, this did not even seem to belong to a women, he was strangely reminiscent of the voice of Eric Lensher, Magneto, who had been captured a few years before, by this very company in fact.

And then Wolverine was very sure he knew that voice; because as he paused for only a second the girl raised her thin arms, the gun shivered in the guards hands as he took a shot; the bullet stopped mere inches from the girl and fell with a trickle to the floor, then gun flew behind her, Wolverine ducked, taking another step forwards, as a section of the metal plated walls unfastened from the corridor with a shudder and wrapped around the guards throat.

A set of steely grey eyes met his, strangely old for such a young face, Wolverine took a hesitant step forward, his hands raised in peace,

'The Wolverine,' The voice purred in the sharp tone of Magneto, the girl extended her hands again and Wolverine was met with the familiar feeling of no control, her was raised into the air, his entire body stalled by the mightily power that only Magneto was meant to posses over metal.

'ERIC!' The girl yelled in a fearful but ferocious tone, her eyes seemed to flash a different colour for only a second, before being replaced by the same steel, The girl huffed, angry at not having the chance of torture, but she fell to the floor in the same way she had before, the Wolverine crashing down at the same time, she clutched her head, squirmed away from the corpse on the floor and a set of warm chocolate eyes met Wolverines.

'Did i do that?' came a lost, lonely tone, it was not the steely one he knew of Magneto, or the barked orders of that General, She spoke with a southern accent, it was strange, but it was warm and sweet like honey or anything that warm and soft and kind, but the Wolverine was not the kind of person to go into lengthy explanations of how nice her voice sounded.

'Are you insane?' The words burst out, she had to be - of course, she was right to be so, trapped in that cell for god knows how long, and she seemed… lost? Like she was more than one person all rolled into the body of a skinny teenage girl, Wolverine wondered which voice was really hers…

'Well would you blame me if i was? Come on, we gotta get out of here,' Her voice cracked hysterically. she offered him her hand and he took it, feeling the cool grace of her delicate hands, '… Do you know the way out?' she said as an afterthought.

'The doctor, from before, he told you,' Yup, she had clearly lost it.

'The one that was dead? No, he told Maggie, i don't remember, what's your name by the way?'

'You - you just… Wolverine.' She appeared to have some kind of multiple personality disorder, Wolverine decided that now was not the time - what was important now was getting out of here alive, he shook his head at how that was not likely to be so simple when an ear piercing alarm sounded, red lights flashing and turning the corridor into some kind of horror movie, he snatched up her hand and ran, following the directions that the doctor he pulled her through a door and up a flight of stairs, he wondered why she did not use the metal powers to simply rip apart the walls, but she seemed adamant that whatever powers she might posses she should not use them,

When they stopped at a door with yet another retina scanner he slammed a claw into it with a crackle of electricity and pushed the door open, he looked out into what seemed to be a bunker, shelves and shelves of strange vials and metallic objects glittered or where covered with old creamy sheets, it was strangely quiet; the alarms silenced, the door was so thick it seemed to blot out any sound… Wolverine was fairly certain he was not meant to have gone through here.

'We went the wrong way you idiot!' the hard voice of the general sounded, Wolverine was captivated by the chocolate eyes that were now a clear sparkling blue, her brows knitted in fury.

'What the hell is wrong with you?' He wanted to say, but didn't, slightly fearing her wrath. They stood not so far away from what looked like an exit, about to move towards it it slammed open and he yanked the girl- whoever she happened to be, behind on if the long aisles, peering slightly round to see over forty guards, all with many, many guns, taking position to fire, he couldn't die so wasn't phased… But the girl… Surely she could. He turned towards her, and saw her grinning madly, emersed in some kind of concoction she was making from a rack of coloured chemicals, he gave her a questioning look; she smirked.

'Leave this one to me, Mate,' She giggled wildly again, her voice still the Generals. She held her thumb over the mouth of a test tube filled with purple liquid, and then clambered nimbly - and impossibly, scaling the wall like a spider, defying gravity since there were no foot holds, onto of the long cases that led from where she was to where the soldiers lay in wait, he tried to stop her but she was gone.

Crawling across the top of the cabinet like it was a few feet off the ground rather than about ten metres…

The Wolverine waited…

He heard a gentle crack of breaking glass and saw the soldiers smeared in a thick smoke that appeared from nowhere.

And then he saw the girl leap from so high up into the foggy mess as though she were playing hopscotch.

And then the shooting started.

**please please please review it will make me update like five times quicker if i think someone is actually waiting for the chapters and enjoying the story,, **

**xx**

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	5. Fun, Games, and Guns

Logan had to help. Well, as strange as she was - as little aversion she had to murder and danger and… Guns, he could not deny that she shouldn't have to live with that aversion; someone like her should never be forced into the world where guns lurked around every corner, where danger was such a constant and where death seemed day to day, he told himself that he needd to protect her because she might know something about Project Rouge but it wasn't true, The Wolverine took a run towards the slowly filtering smoke cloud, retracting his claws, never one to miss out on the action.

As he got closer his nose and mouth were suffocated by a foul stench of the purple clouds, it only barley covered up the horrendous amours of blood he scented too, he wondered fearfully if she was one of the bodies he almost tripped over, this thought was cut short when he ran his claws through a green blob before he had even seen him, _where was she? _

He sliced the head clean of yet another murky blob - scented the air quickie first to ensure it wasn't her, nope - he smelled sweat and cheap booze - and was stopped. Silence. The gunshots had stopped, the only sound were four heartbeats; three heavy breathers and one that seemed utterly calm - and _humming?_

The one with a calm heart was humming. He was almost instantaneously sure it was the strange girl, he heard another round of gunfire and a thud, but the humming did no cease, nor did the normal heartbeat, although one of the heavy heartbeats did, he followed the sound, unable to rely on sight or smell, he emerged from the smoke into what seemed to be the edge of the cloud - how on earth had she managed to stop it spreading over her? The smoke had to nearly have encased the entire cavern by now, she seemed to possess a bubble of clean air around her, not phased by the thick gas that formed a bowl around her, but that was - of course not the only thing that was strange.

The girl was glittering. Her skin wasn't just pale anymore - it didn't even look like skin; it looked like crystal, the light shattered off her, turning her into some demonic fairy tale creature, and how still she stood made her look like a carved monument to some ancient goddess, her military voice broke the illusion, but in a purr of happiness,

'Who's going to try first?' she grinned, her pearly teeth bared - Wolverine did not move, though the Logan inside him screamed at him to help her, the Wolverine merely wanted to see what powers she possessed, one, far bulkier guard seemed to decide he would try, picking up his gun he pulled the trigger half a dozen times, aiming for her heart, her head, Logan ran forward, overpowering the curiosity inside him, but he was too late, the gun spat each bullet from it's barrel with a crack, and each one hit her squarely where they were aimed.

But she did not move, her smile did not change, she wasn't hurt. The bullets ricocheted of her skin with gentle '_ping'_s and Wolverine was satisfied nought to allow Logan to take the offending guard out, turning her saw she had already done the same to the remaining one.

And she was still humming.

'God dam it, Maggie, what did i say?' Came the voice that he had began to associate with the real girl, or at least the most dominate personality in her head - not the personalities inside her, when she screamed that at no one in particular Logan watched her eyes flicker back to chocolaty brown and back again, her expression like a child that had been scolded.

The humming ceased as her blue eyes slid back to brown, she clutched her head, and when she surfaced she squirmed away yet again from the bloodied body next to her, Logan was beginning to think it was common place for her to wake up next to a body. She stood up, her face sad but resolute as she stared around the bubble of clean air,

'Are you ok?' Logan asked, unsure what he was meant to do, forgetting for a moment that they needed to leave desperately, intent on just comforting her, he walked over to her,

'Fine, Maggie just won't listen to me,' She looked around again,

'We're not going to be able to find a door with all this around us are we?' Logan was surprised how happy it made him when she talked about them being a 'We' as though they had known each other months rather than mere minutes, He watched her expression change her her eyes melt into a strange godly colour, this close he realised it wasn't just her eyes that changed - her face was the same but with subtle differences; her brow would harder or soften, her lips would pout or draw back, she would hold her body differently, her neck would straighten, it was strange to watch, but fascinating at the same time, her eyes reminded him of a wine glass being filled; utterly one colour and then another pouring in and curling and licking at the edges until they were a whole other colour, the gold gleamed in a set of wide childish eyes with pouted curled lips,

'Hi!, I'm Poppy!' She squeaked, her voice that of just a child, her face stopped glowing with such youth as her eyes rolled back, like she was thinking hard, Logan wondered if the girl he had met was speaking to her know, she nodded at nothing and turned, he watched her turn towards the walls of smoke, what seemed to follow looked like a ballet move; on her toes she swung her arms spun around and around, Logan watched the smoke clear like a fan had been turned on, making the bowl around them spread to most of the cavern, she stopped, slumping to the floor, Logan ran to her again, seeing her yes the familiar brown he liked the best.

**Yes - i got the diamond skin of X-Men Origins,**

**And i kind of stole the smoke clearing thing from Avatar: The Last Airbender. **

**Stroppy child time,, i refuse to do another chapter until i get… four reviews? **

**xx**


	6. Brown Eyes and Blood

Logan looked at her eyes; Who was she? Was all this some particular brand of mutant based insanity? Had she created the many characters in her head as defence of her imprisonment? Logan need more time to question her but knew he would have to wait until he was at the jet, and thinking if that he felt the first twists of fear run through him; Jean… Storm, hell, he was even afraid for Scott - although not _that _much.

But he had no time to worry about his companions; The Girl - with her shifting personalities and intense changes was growing obviously weak; they ran through the endless corridors - guided by the occasional out bursts of the military woman named Maggie, to direct their way, forced back quickly by Brown Eyes - she clutched the side of a metal wall, her eyes down, the other arm wrapped around her ribs, gasping for breath - Logan stopped running immediately and tried to help Brown Eyes but he was pushed away by Blue Eyed Maggie, she stood with an intensely straight back, her pained expression became furious - as though she would not succumb to the shameful weakness of fatigue.

Logan needed to say something to her; help her, encourage her, but no words would come out as he jogged along to her march, besides; 'Maggie' seemed to despise him greatly - even if he was as yet unsure why.

So he said nothing; part of that was because speech may make it easier for the various soldiers to find them, but mainly it was because he did not want to speak to whoever the 'Maggie' girl was, the snobby girl that seemed to assume superiority with the few sentences she spoke. The rest dripped with malice that only someone bizarrely twisted could utter, and he did not trust the Blue Eyed girl - maybe that was just because she was not the Brown Eyed girl - with her warm southern accent and trusting grace, her soft eyes and warm smile, and her heartbroken gaze and terror when she had heard the soldiers before she was taken away and replaced with Blue Eyes.

Oh, how he hated Blue Eyes.

She cracked the tiniest of smiles - the first sign of humanity he had seen of her - when they smashed through another metal door - honestly, Wolverine thought to himself - he was just going anyway that seemed to hold anyway of escape, Maggie seemed to know where they were going but she looked deep in thought - conversing with Brown Eyes? Logan strangely hoped that Brown Eyes would make a return, but the door he crashed through seemed to have been the right one - well done to his animalistic senses and instincts he prided himself; the scent of smoke was lesser here, and faintly he could smell concrete rather than metal, and petrol rather than such concentrated blood, and he felt the faintest trace of a breeze against his face, when it swung open and with it he could hear around for what could have been miles, the entire complex no longer dented by doors and walls and locks and codes, he could see everything, even the pearly grey sky through the copious amounts of remaining fog,

He heard it before she did, but it was his own worries and qualms and prejudice against Blue Eyes that led him to not think about it - to not be on guard, and so it was her that felt a bullet scorch past her shoulder with a bang; shot from a sniper that none of her powers could have sensed earlier. She crouched to to floor, crying out in agony as she gripped her arms that spurted blood, Brown Eyes was back and she wept, The Wolverine wanted to scream in fury that the Blue Eyed girl had decided to vanish just as she was actually needed.

Suddenly he hated Blue Eyes even more.

Logan sank down to help her - or shield her if the sniper tried again, and thus ignored every instinct in his head that clawed at his mind and ordered him to turn and stand and be ready.

It was the gulp of a barely grown adolescent with a gun that made him turn.

Guards surrounded them in a loose circle. Every gun pointed at him, while they ignored the weeping, bloody girl on the floor. He held his hands up in surrender - planning on slaughtering every one of them the second even one let his guard down - but the girl… the girl… She could neither fight nor defend herself, and he would be a poor fighter if he carried her in his arms, especially whilst trying not to get her shot.

He was stuck.

Probably no matter what he did he would end up with half a dozen bullets embedded in his skin, bouncing of his bones, searing his flesh; He could stand that, but if he was killed, it did not matter if he came back; because she… probably wouldn't. whether another sniper did not miss her this time, a stray bullet he dodged, of the chains she could not fight when he woke up she would almost defiantly be gone.

He gulped.

And stared down the barrel of the closest gun, very sure that they could kill him a thousand times. But they would not hurt her.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEE,, SOOO LOOKING FORWAD TO WRITING THIS NEXT (LAST) CHAPTER! **

**Please tell me what you think!**


	7. Adamantium Dances

There was a heart wrenching whimper behind him, and Logan could smell salt water tears along side the blood in the air, but he could not turn to help; it would undoubtably do more harm than good, but every drop of blood that splattered on the asphalt made his heart stutter with terror.

In the distance The Wolverine heard the whistling of a helicopter's blades beginning, and then a set of footsteps; heavy set, accompanied by the scent of sweat and old liquor, he recognised it… but at the same time he didn't…

'Ahh,' the balding man in shiny shoes preened, parting the crowd of armed soldiers like the red sea, 'How nice of you to join us, Wolverine'

Stryker. The name popped into his head and would not be silenced. This man was Stryker.

'And what exactly were you intending to take my little project, Wolverine?' He gestured to the girl that gasping for her breath through the bullet in her shoulder,

'Project, Stryker?'

'Oh, how sweet that you can remember, and here i was certain you had an unusual case of amnesia,' his voice was smug, full of pride.

'Let us go before i turn you into a pin cushion,' he adopted a fighting position, all the while not taking his hearing - nor his mind - from the girl,

Stryker smirked,

'and how do you intend to do that without a bullet through your brain?'

'Never stopped me before.' - and that was most assuredly true.

Stryker raised his hand, in a universal sign to his soldiers, followed within a second by a slash of Wolverine's claws where Stryker had been only a second ago, The Wolverine lunged at Stryker's exposed back but was pushed back by a hail of bullets; they hit him like fists; minuscule but precise and painful. He felt every searing chunk of metal enter his skin and run through his flesh and organs followed by them being pushed straight back out and his flesh knitting back together; it was strange but he was used to it.

Logan gave up on fighting quickly - although he hated to do it; he scooped the tiny brunette into his arms, despite her squeal of pain and shielded her from the hail of bullets; he heard the bullets thunk of his metal skeleton and knew that none could hurt her, his bulk made it impossible for them to get at her; she would not be hurt by another of their bullets, The Wolverine turned. and The Wolverine ran.

Having been born with such confidence as the Wolverine, he had began to run he had expected none other than the harsh stings of the bullets behind him though, and because of his stupid confidence his world had split at the seams; ended in darkness and anger and hate and the sound of bullets.

The Wolverine, so preoccupied with the war around him had forgotten.

He had forgotten Stryker's dear associate; the strange woman with the same dastardly affliction as him; with bones of Adamantium and a brain stuffed full of mush and mess because of the control Stryker had forced upon her.

While Logan did not remember Stryker the Wolverine knew him, and the Wolverine screamed in frustration when he felt five sharp, small claws rake into the back of his knee, the extreme strength of the girl's hands laced around his ankle, making him stumble and fall, The girl, the only girl, fell from his arms, rolling away leaving a heavy trail of blood behind him, He tried to shake the Animalistic-Female from his ankle, slicing his own claws into her neck to little affect,she let go, only to be followed by a stabbing into his chest.

The Wolverine roared in fury, and took control, forcing Logan back and engaging the Female in one of the only matched fights he had ever fought.

The fight became a dance, each leaping nimbly away from harm, occasionally feeling the pain of not being able to dodge, and it was not until Logan had her perched on his back - claws at his throat that he realised.

The crying had stopped. The girl was silent, not a whimper, not a weep of pain, and she was not a bundle upon the floor.

Blood continued to pulse from her wound, tears still lay on her pale face, but her face showed no pain. Her face showed nothing.

Her eyes - a vivid electric blue - flickering as though there was pure lighting behind her gaze gazed unseeingly into the distance.

And at her pale, blood streaked hands, bolts of lighting flickered like streams of water, her mouth was open a little and a puff of black smoke unfurled from there and her nostrils, her eyes focused eventually, taking in the situation with shock - perhaps the literal explanation there - her eyes zeroed into Logan's, showing recognition. She raised her hands and began to uncurl her fists like there was a precious creature inside that she was afraid to let escape.

And then the lighting stopped. Her eyes flickered, first to brown, then to steely grey, to the childish gold, followed by a forest green and then a glowing red, all around her the world seemed to fall into disarray; a curl of flames escaped her mouth, the earth around her groaned and grumbled, gusts of wind swished around her shoulders, her appearance changed her hair unfurling into deep red, bullet shells around her feet rattled, for a moment her skin dazzled in diamonds.

And Wolverine watched as her eyes flickered once to brown, her expression just pain, and shock, and misery, and it was because of the syringe embedded in her supple, pale neck.

Her knees shook, as though she was overtaken with her injury again, and she fell to the ground.

Stryker didn't catch her.

He yanked her up by her hair and threw her over his shoulder, uncaring as to her injured shoulder, he smiled cruelly at Wolverine and with a thud of the Females elbow the world began to fade as he fell into an abyss of unconsciousness.

And Logan watched as Stryker stole her away, her eyes met his with difficulty, her eyes… sad, hopeless, but her lips rose into a tiny, kind smile that was supposed to tell him;

_Thank you_, and _Goodbye. _

And The Wolverine did not awake until his world was gone.

**EEEE, I FINISHED! **

**What do you think? **

**Sorry it's taken a while**

**xx**


	8. Epilogue: Project Rogue is Cancelled

A great many months later the Wolverine is clad in his own leather's rather than the elicit jumpsuits in favour by the X-Men, fitting - considering that he is currently on the run from the institution that he works for, and is in fact in the throngs of acutely disobeying orders.

He slices his claws through the chain linked fence of an abandoned research facility that was once immensely strict upon security and safety and had a guard every few metres that he would gladly have killed to pass.

And yet now the place stands - a ghost house, an old hole, barley months empty and yet… still, dead, like the entirety of the facility is screaming at him to run away, telling him there is nothing here for him, and that nothing lives here.

But he ignores his instincts - though he knows he never should, and slices his own door trough a brick wall, barging into a corridor… Not steel though - a fact that put him strangely on edge.

These are varying colours of pastels, and echo with his own shadows rather than the metal inside him.

He pads along the dusty grey carpet, making hardly a sound as he disturbs only the swirling motes of dust in the rare filters of fading sunlight.

He searches form the top downwards, a little afraid (though he will not admit such weakness) to find anything in the basement - as what he found the last time he did this almost broke him.

The Rogue has been dropped from the radar, sufficed to say that from the second he awake alone in the facility that 'The Company' destroyed hardly hours later, he has been searching for the strange little woman that spoke with herself.

For the Brown eyes.

He looks for computers, security systems, to find everything stripped away or erased to software that is blank and useless.

He knows night is falling soon, and he wants to leave before it does.

He punches through the retina scanner that offends him personally as he descends past the only thing that had thus far given any indication of familiarity with him.

He walks into the corridor and he smells blood.

And he runs.

But he is too late again.

He is always too late to find her, he was too late the last place she had once been, her scent days old by the time he had struck.

He is far too late this time, and a whimper escapes him as he cradles the tiny girl in his arms.

Blood had dried in a garish trickle from a hole between the born eyes that are flat in colour now, flat and just… brown.

They aren't her brown anymore.

Flat and muddy like her hair which now falls flat and stark and glossy like her murky and sallow skin.

He holds her, though warmth has abandoned her.

He cradles her, though he can offer no protection.

He takes her away from this place when she is already far gone.

And he can never look at metal - the metal that inhabits his own body, the metal that surrounds the lives of everyone these days - the same way again.

Because the girl, the project, the funny girl with the kind smile, She isn't there anymore.

He had lost her.

And he is lost too.

* * *

><p><strong>They needed closure, I reread it and I can't believe anyone let me get away with that ending! :0<strong>

**I had intended to do a sequal but I never really wanted to continue to build there characters when this was always the ending I wanted. And I thought this was more... pointient... **

**Hope I didn't break any hearts, because I sure as hell broke mine :'(**

xx


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